


for R part 2.

by haentai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Based on a Lana Del Rey Song, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Musician Sirius Black, Praise Kink, Writer Remus Lupin, its just sirius gushing over remus, its kinda implied tho, its not graphic tho, oh!, petnames, remus lowkey has long hair, theyre a tag of their own bc damn, well longer than usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23638522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haentai/pseuds/haentai
Summary: He always calls him 'pretty'. But to him, the truly beautiful one here is Remus, with his golden eyes hidden behind his fringe and sweet words.based on the songfor k part 2by lana del rey.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	for R part 2.

**Author's Note:**

> _for k part 2_ is one of my favourites songs from lana and tbh if you wanna get the full experience (or only if you haven't heard of it yet! its a great song!) i recommend listening to it.  
> as weird as it may seem to some, i really feel like sirius would relate more to this song (about remus) than remus about sirius, but maybe thats just me ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

There’s something in the air as Remus laughs at him whenever he fucks something up on the guitar. Like dainty dingles of bells singing at his ear. But he doesn’t turn to look if angels came down to croon behind him, because he knows from experience that they’re not, in fact, there. 

“Sirius baby, y’sure you don’t wanna let James play that instead?” Remus taunts, lips still curled in a grin and Sirius glares at him. 

“Yeah, Sirius  _ baby _ ,” James jumps in, eager at every chance he gets to mock Sirius in any way. “Let lil’ ol’ Jamey save you from embarrassing yourself even more than you already have.” And James goes in to take the guitar from around Sirius’ shoulder, but he dodges quickly, scowling.

“Fuck off, Potter. I told you I could play this bloody song and I  _ can _ . I just need some practice.” Even if it’s been just shy under an hour since he slung the guitar over his shoulders. He doesn’t look to see James’ eye-roll. Instead, turns to Remus, who’s still sitting on the couch with his laptop perched in his lap.

“And  _ you _ ,” Sirius points and Remus raises his hands in faux innocence. He’s still grinning, the wanker. “Go back to your stupid ‘novel writing’. I don’t need you yapping at me every five minutes.”

“But, sweetheart, I’m just offering some constructive criticism.”

“Didn’t see you offer Peter ’ _ constructive criticism _ ’ when he fucked up ten minutes ago!” And he hears Peter gasp offended, in the corner of the room, behind his drum kit.

“Peter doesn’t look as adorable as you do when he messes something up though.” He huffs. Ignoring the others’ snickers and ignoring the warmth in his cheeks, Sirius goes back to the mic.

He fucks up a note again later– when he sees Remus lick his sharp canine and wink at him, mouth twisted in a smirk and golden eyes dark. But then Remus is bending in half, his mirth bouncing off the walls. And Sirius has to look behind him, to make  _ sure,  _ one last time. Huh. Still, no angels singing.

_ Alright, you caught me, I don’t play a good guitar but _

_ What do you want from me, it’s just a stupid bar and _

_ I didn’t promise anything. _

Remus is waiting for them, for  _ him  _ outside the pub, smoking a fag. But he drops it the moment they come out the door. He grins and starts clapping. James bows dramatically and almost falls on his arse when Lily pushes him on her way out. Peter smiles, flushes, laughs.  _ Sirius _ , on the other hand. He promptly jumps into Remus’ open arms, still buzzing with the adrenaline of performing for the crowd.

“We fucking kicked arse,” Sirius shrieks as Remus twirls him once, twice before he puts him back on stable ground. The others laugh at them, but they’re not hiding their immense grins and sparkly eyes, all five tumbling into a group hug that lasts either minutes or days.

“Wanna go for a pint,” he asks then, taking hold of Remus’ hand and swinging it violently.

“Mate, are you bloody insane? I’m going home so I can sleep for a fucking  _ week _ ,” Peter says incredulously, shaking his head when Sirius whines. 

“Sorry, mate,” James says when Sirius makes puppy eyes at him, one arm thrown around Lily’s shoulders. “Peter’s right. I’m fuckin’ knackered.”

And he’s still pouting when he and Remus make their way back to their own home, hands still clasped together, fingers intertwined. “C’mon, angel,” says Remus then, big hand rising to comb through Sirius’ hair. “Why’re you sad? You were so good tonight.”

Of course, he spills everything to Remus. “– and it’s like those guys don’t even care that  _ this  _ could change everything! Y’know that guy, Dumbledore, right? I told you about him. Weird glasses, massive beard.” Remus nods. “Yeah, well, he came up to us after the gig. Offered to  _ sign  _ us. Yes, I know, right! Like, fuck, we’re finally going some-fucking-where after so long! Can you even imagine what this means! Opportunities, albums, money, a  _ future. _ ” He’s fucking buzzing with excitement, that is until he remembers his stupid bandmates and his mood drops, mouth twisting. “And those bloody knobheads don’t even know when to celebrate.”

He feels Remus squeeze his hand, and he turns to look at him. There’s this assured expression on his face that makes Sirius inhale sharply. They stop. Hug. Remus pets the back of his head and Sirius buries his face into Remus’ chest. 

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” Remus whispers into the silence of the vacant street, and his breath catches. They pull back but don’t separate, standing in the middle of the empty road, embracing. “You can’t even imagine.” And then Remus’ thumb strokes his cheek gently, still glittery from highlighter. “My baby was so beautiful, singing in front of so many people. I can’t even comprehend how strong he must be to put his soul out there for so many to see and judge. And his hard work is finally paying off.”

If there were someone else here, if he was with  _ anyone  _ else here, Sirius would be embarrassed that his eyes start watering. But this is  _ Remus _ . Remus is special. “Thanks,” he murmurs, not being able to look him in the eye. Instead, his gaze is glued to the exposed scar on Remus’ shoulder. 

“My pleasure, gorgeous.” After pressing a kiss to his temple, Remus hums. “Wanna go make out on that pole post?” 

Grinning, Sirius raises an eyebrow. “ _ Now,  _ you’re talking.” And with that, Remus leads him to their destination, confident and unapologetic, like always. He would be lying if he said he wouldn’t follow Remus to the end of the world.

_ You think I’m pretty and I like the way you talk. _

_ You like my music, and I like the way you walk. _

_ I think we’re gonna get along. _

They forgot to close the blinds again. So he turns around to get away from the light shining in his eyes, right into a familiar clothed chest. There’s so much _ Remus  _ Sirius just has to breathe into him, tucking his face into his neck and pressing into the stiff weight against his thigh. 

Suddenly there are strong arms around him, crushing, comforting. “Hey, princess.” Remus’ voice comes like a groggy whisper, enveloping him in a warmth that starts from the tips of ears all the way to his curling toes. He hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t move from Remus’ embrace. That is, of course, until Remus flips them, settling on top of Sirius.

He’s sweet when he kisses Sirius, holding his nape gently with one hand, the other keeping his mouth open by the chin. Remus’ hair is tickling him, and he combs his fingers through it, the honey waves twirling around his fingers tenderly. 

When Remus comes up to hover above him, his pretty eyes peek from behind his long fringe. His headband sits contently on the nightstand, but Sirius doesn’t offer it to him. Likes the frustration that appears on Remus’ face when he wants to look at Sirius properly but can’t, so he sweeps his hand roughly through it. Likes the way it falls back in his eyes, like a statement.

It’s longer than usual. Not as long as his, but Remus’ waves flutter around his stubble; brush his shoulders. Definitely longer than Sirius ever saw it in these two years since they’ve known each other. Handsome.

“Happy birthday, lovely,” Remus’ lip curls upwards, his canine peeking out.  _ Handsome. _

He hums, hands roaming. He lets his palm rest on the Remus’ scar, where his jumper properly fell and exposed his collarbone, shoulder. He’s never been more grateful for Remus’ affinity of wearing clothes three sizes too big. 

“Finally older than you. I expect some respect from now on, kiddo.” He looks up to see Remus smiling at him. Flushes at the emotion in those golden eyes. Lets his hand dip into Remus’ jumper to feel his steady heartbeat; like the confident sound of a bass drum.

Remus purrs into the air, big hands wondering over Sirius’ flank, sliding his tee higher and higher. “What are you suggesting, pretty old man,” Remus asks grinding forward from where he’s secured between Sirius’ naked thighs. Those lovely eyes sparkle and darken when he falters, stiffens, melts.

_ I like the way you wear your sweater off your shoulder, _

_ The way your hair comes down and makes you look older. _

_ How did you get so handsome, my boy? _

_ Pretty baby, _

_ Pretty baby. _

Maybe if they were anywhere else, Remus would say no. Their friends are okay, though; Remus feels comfortable enough around them. The booze also helps. So he allows Sirius to drag him off the sofa and between their dancing friends. 

They all cheer when they notice Remus alongside them and Remus blushes prettily, awkwardly, rubbing at his eye to cover his face at the attention. He still has one hand attached to Sirius’ side, and he knows it’s for support, for reassurance. 

Wrapping his arms around Remus’ neck, he notices Marlene wiggling her blonde eyebrows at him from where she’s wrapped around Dorcas on the other side of the room. He just rolls his eyes, flashes her the V and promptly tucks his face into Remus’ neck. The music isn’t too upbeat, just buoyant enough for Sirius to swivel his hips carelessly. 

He feels Remus’ restless hands, unashamed when they dip under his cropped jumper. Up his spine, around his waist. He shivers. “Don’t tease me,” he manages, gripping onto Remus’ open corduroy shirt. 

“You’re teasing me right now, sweetheart,” Remus responds, in a voice that suggests nonchalance, but Sirius knows better. “With your pretty hips and lovely hair. I saw what cologne you put on today before we went out.” The one that makes Remus’ pupils go wide. Remus takes Sirius’ braid into his hand and tugs lightly.

When he looks up into Remus’ eyes, he sees the heat in them and trembles. His fingers play with the hair strands at the base of Remus’ neck, where they fell out of his half-updo, and Remus smiles down at him. His senses get a little fuzzy around the edges, but they tend to do that when Remus speaks like this. 

They’re still dancing, but Sirius can’t tell on what song. All he hears is Remus’ voice whispering in his ear how beautiful he is, how wonderful his grey eyes look with that mascara and eyeliner. _ What a good boy you are, Sirius baby, my sweet angel _ . It’s different looking in Remus’ eyes when they’re not mostly covered by his fringe. They’re amber, almost gold when they sparkle in the light. It’s like looking at the Sun. 

Remus’ freckles shift when he smiles at Sirius, canine peeking from between his lips. His hands tighten on Remus’ neck. Remus’ hands settle on his hips, squeezing. “Wanna sit down, baby?” A nod.

He melts into the loveseat and only when Remus pushes his mouth closed, Sirius realises it was slightly open this whole time. It’s such an intimate gesture; when Remus rubs his thumb under Sirius’ eye, over his glittery cheek, along the seam of his lips. He’s looking up at Remus with wide eyes because Remus is still standing, very much the God Sirius should be praying to.

“Lemme get you some water, sweets.” And then he is chasing Remus’ retreating frame with his eyes, head buzzing and heart drumming along his ribcage. A low hum thrumming just under his skin, like an itch Sirius is forced to endure until Remus comes to scratch it.

_ The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know, _

_ The way you stand up and your silhouette glows. _

_ I’m electrified, I’ll be up all night now. _

Remus has Sirius on his stomach, pinned down and panting heavily into the pillow. He’s gentle this time, with his rough hands and torturous drag inside and out of Sirius. But he can’t even bring himself to dare and ask for more, because of Remus’ big hand curls around the back of his neck. A warning; firm and grounding at the same time.

His senses are in overdrive, and he’s overwhelmed suddenly. He arches his back, as much as Remus allows with his fingers digging into Sirius’ hip. There’s a moan on his lips, one that sounds precariously similar to those forbidden three words and Sirius’ face burns with embarrassment. They haven’t said  _ it  _ to each other, yet.

He almost wishes Remus didn’t hear it, but he  _ did _ . Because his right hand slides, wraps, fastens around his throat just the way Remus knows Sirius likes it. He whines. Tugs at the silk scarf wrapped his wrists. Freezes, when Remus presses his lips to the shell of his ear. “Such a pretty baby,” Remus whispers. 

“Come on, lovely. Come for me. Such a beautiful angel, my darling little boy. Show me how pretty you are and come for me. I’ll take care of you, princess, come on.” And Sirius comes, with Remus’ praises singing in his ear, murmurs of how loved he is.

_Use that voice, sing that song_

_And tell me, and tell me to come on,_

_Come on,_

_Come on, come on, come on,_

_Come on,_

_Come on,_

_Come on, come on, come on._

_You won't hear no, you won't hear no..._

_Pretty baby,_

_Pretty baby._


End file.
